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Every seat in the preview theater was filled. All members of the Science Report team had been summoned there - to see what Clements and Benson had been watching only a little earlier. Fergus Godwin was also there, sitting next to Clements, and so were many other executives of the company.
Clement's eyes were sparkling with excitement when the house lights eventually came up. "Well, Fergus?" he asked. "What d'you think?"
Godwin frowned and nibbled at his bottom lip, baffled and reluctant to commit himself. "What the hell can I ossibly think?" he countered. "If what we've just seen is authentic, if it isn't just an elaborate fake, then the human race has been conned rotten and we've got the most incredible television scoop ever. But...I mean...that can't have happened - it can't possibly be true!"
"But it fits in, doesn't it?" persisted Clements. "It fits with everything else we've got..."
"Have you checked with Jodrell Bank ? With people who worked with Ballantine?"
"Well, no..."
"Then do it. Do it now. And put the whole thing to NASA as well. If we used that in the program and it turned out to be a stumer ... there's be the most God-awful blow-back. And, I give you fair warning, Chris, I'm not prepared to carry the can."
"But NASA are certain to deny it," protested Clements. "That stands to reason..."
"Let me know when you've spoken to them." Godwin got up, started to leave the theater. "And I also want to hear what Jodrell Bank have to say."
Hendlemann, the man at Jodrell Bank, was friendly and eager to be helpful. But, when he heard Benson's description of what was on the tape, he was utterly skeptical. "Sir William never mentioned a word about it," he said. "And something of that magnitude ... he'd never have kept it to himself."
Benson tried to smother his disappointment. "But did he ever say anything to you, or to anyone else, about meeting a man called Harry something-or-other when he was at NASA last year?"
Hendlemann was apologetic. "Not a thing. I'm afraid I'm not being much use to you, Mr. Benson..."
"Would you ask around? Maybe he did mention this Harry to someone else at Jodrell Bank. I assure you, Mr. Hendlemann, it really is important."
"You said earlier you thought it might throw some fresh light on Sir William's death..."
"It's just possible.'
"Hm, in that case I'll do all I can. There was something about that crash which didn't quite add up, as far as I was concerned. Now I'm not promising anything , mark you, but I will ask around."
"And if you do discover anything..."
"I'll call you back either way. That is a promise."
The NASA official, who refused to give his name, took a very different attitude. "I heard some freaky notions in my time but this one sure caps the lot," he said. "You better face it, son...someone's been pulling your leg."
"Then you are stating categorically that the tape must be a forgery?"
"How could it be anything else? That must be the most stupid question I've heard this year."
"And the information on it is not accurate?"
"Son, do me a favor, will you? I've been very patient but I'm a busy man and I really think this joke's gone on long enough..."
"I'm taping this conversation and I want you on record as saying that the information is inaccurate - if it really is."
"I'm sorry...I've wasted more than enough time on this already. There's absolutely nothing more to say."
Benson was left with the dialing tone. The anonymous man in Houston had replaced his receiver.
"Blast! said Benson. He was tempted to dial again, to try speaking to someone different at NASA. Not that it would be likely to make any difference. All the official spokesmen had presumably been briefed to trot out the same sort of line. Laugh the idea right out of court - that seemed to be the tactic. And Benson was sure it was no more than a tactic.
He felt he had detected some hint of uncertainty under the man's brash derision. And he felt, more strongly than ever, that the tape was genuine. But proving it - or, at least, proving it enough to satisfy Goodwin - that was another matter.
He put the receiver back in its rest and was contemplating going for a canteen coffee when the bell rang. Hendlemann again. And this time with excitement in his voice.
"I've discovered something quite astonishing, Mr. Benson," he said. "Sir William did meet somebody called Harry at NASA. He made a note about it in his diary while he was in America. I've been checking through that diary and it really is quite remarkable. He doesn't mention this Harry's surname but, listen, I'll read you the extract:
" "Harry gave promised help but is now frightened. Told me today - These bastards would kill us if they knew what we've just seen. Take a word of advice, friend, and destroy that damned tape." "
"There! added Hendlemann. "Now what are we to make of that?"
"Anything else in the diary?"
"Nothing that appears to be relevant."
Benson thought fast. "The tapes you use at Jodrell Bank...is there anything distinctive about them?"
"In what way?"
"Could you, by studying this tape, establish if it belonged to Jodrell Bank?"
"No...but I might well be able to establish that it did not belong to us."
"And if you couldn't do that ... it would, at least, reduce the chances of it being a fake..."
"Most certainly."
"Is it possible, Mr. Hendlemann, for you to come to London?"
"I'll leave immediately," said Hendlemann. "I'm very anxious to see exactly what is on that tape."
Benson met Hendlemann at reception and took him to the preview theater where Clements was waiting. The tape was laced-up ready for viewing once again. They sat in silence, watching and listening.
"Incredible!" said Hendlemann eventually. "Absolutely incredible!"
"You think that might have originated at Jodrell Bank? asked Clements.
"Let me examine the actual tape," said Hendlemann.
Clements led the way to the projection box and Hendlemann produced an eye-glass through which he minutely studied the tape. He became so absorbed in his examination that he appeared to be oblivious of the men with him. "Why?" he asked. "Why didn't he tell me?"
Clements signaled to Benson not to interrupt. They waited while Hendlemann checked frame after frame. Then he closely scrutinized the leader section of the tape and finally he nodded his head emphatically and put his eye-glass back in his waistcoat pocket.
"Well?" asked Clements. "What do you think?"
"I'm almost afraid to tell you this - but I have to," said Hendlemann. "I do believe, Mr. Clements, that this is the genuine article."
They hurried him across to Godwin's office where he repeated his belief - and the reasons for it.
"Give me just one minute," said Godwin. "I'd like to have the Managing Director in on this one." He dialed Derwent-Smith's internal number, briefly explained the situation, replaced the receiver. "He's joining us," he said.
Derwent-Smith listened while Hendlemann again repeated all he had said. "Fascinating," he said. "And this diary of Sir William's - may we see it?"
Hendlemann nodded. "It's outside in my car."
"Well, Fergus," said Derwent-Smith. "You're Controller of Programs..."
"Yes, but this is different," protested Godwin. "This is one where I want your help - because if we put one foot wrong here there's going to be such a stink..."
"You mean you might want me to share the blame."
"No, I just..."
Derwent-Smith stopped him. "I think we should talk a little more to this mysterious girl," he said. "The one who so conveniently supplied us with the printed circuit."
"But we don't know where she's gone," said Benson. "She refused to tell me."
"And you just let her walk away. That doesn't sound too clever, does it?" Derwent-Smith turned to Clements. "And what's you opinion?"
"Well, the girl...the tape. Are you still keen on using it?"
"Absolutely," said Clements.
"Good," said Derwent-Smith. "Fergus?"
"In view of what Mr. Hendlemann says, I'm for going ahead."
"Fine," said Derwent-Smith. "I'm with you all the way."
That particular week, although the Sceptre Television
team did not then realize it, was an extraordinary one for disappearances - the sort of disappearances which might
have been linked with Batch Consignments.
New Zealand - Monday, June 13, 1977. At 10:30 a.m. accountant Miles
Thornton drove into the caravan-park near Tauranga in the North Island's Bay of Plenty. With him were his wife and two
young sons - all looking forward to a break of a few days. This was one of their favorite spots, a place where they'd
spent many holidays.
Thornton found, to his surprise, that there was no-one on duty in the prefabricated building which served as a reception center. And, even more surprising, there was no sign of anyone in the park. There were cars there. Plenty of cars. But the whole place was completely deserted.
Normally there's have been people sprawled out on loungers, children playing ball-games between the rows of caravans. "But the only living thing to be seen was a dog," he said later. "It was weird."
More weird, in fact, than he realized at the time. Records later found in the abandoned reception center shower that more than 200 people should have been there that morning, including twelve employees of the caravan park. There were no signs of violence, no signs of any struggle. But not one of those people has been seen since.
America - Tuesday, June 14. At 3:00 p.m. two coach- loads of young trippers - average age 19 - set off on a sightseeing tour from Casper, Wyoming. They were last seen heading in the direction of Cheyenne. Seven hours later the vehicles were found empty by the side of a lonely road.
In the sand around the coaches there was a confusion of footprints. But they seemed to lead nowhere. A camera, a pair of binoculars and a girl's handkerchief were found. But, like the people in New Zealand's Bay of Plenty, those seventy-six youngsters were never seen again.
At 4:30 p.m. that same day a small passenger-cargo vessel, the Amelio, left Barcelona with 165 people on board. Intended destination: Tunis. The Amelio was last seen steaming into a light sea mist south of the Balearic Islands. There was virtually no wind and the water was calm.
The mist was a comparatively small patch, covering little more than about two square miles, but there is no record of the Amelio ever having come out of it. And of the area resulted in a complete blank. Not even a bit of wreckage has ever been found. As one coastguard official put it: "This is on of the absolute mysteries. It is just as if the sea had opened up its mouth and swallowed her."
So there it was. More than 440 people disappeared in the oddest combination of circumstances during those two days in June.
It would be irresponsible for us to state that those people have now become "Batch Consignment Components" for we have no absolute proof. We do suggest that, however, as a distinct possibility.
The Ballantine tape was, of course, the most astounding feature of that television production. It was authentic. Absolutely and startlingly authentic. But, as Godwin had feared, it did bring the most "God-awful blow-back."
Simon Butler introduced it and, as viewers will recall, all that could be seen at first was a haze of colors and uncertain shapes. There was a whirling blur of confusion - multi-colored dust dervishes glimpsed crazily through a tumbling kaleidoscope-and nothing, nothing more.
Then the picture cleared and the camera seemed to be skimming low over a wild and barren landscape. No vegetation, no suggestion of life. Just mile after mile of wilderness and brown-red desolation.
Sounds of static. Then, faintly, of men cheering. And finally there were the American voices - from the Space Control Room at NASA:
FIRST VOICE: Okay...try to scan.
SECOND VOICE: Scanning now.
FIRST VOICE: The readings...where are the readings?
At that moment, superimposed over the scanning of the alien landscape, viewers saw the computer-printed word "temperature." And, almost instantaneously, that word was duplicated in Russian. Now there was a great outburst of Russian voices. Excited, jubilant. And then, once again, the second American voice came through with great clarity: "Wait for it...w-a-I-t for it...Come on, baby, don't fail us now...not after all this way..."
Computer figures appeared alongside the words on the screen. The temperature, they showed, was four degrees Centigrade. More printed words - "Wind Speed" - in American and then Russian. And the first American voice was shouting triumphantly: "It's okay...it's good, it's good." A russian voice, equally ecstatic, carried the same message.
Then the computer print-out started giving the most vital information of all - information, in English and Russian, about the atmosphere of that strange and distant territory.
The words and letters were appearing with agonizing, nerve-shredding slowness. As though they were being formed, uncertainly, by some retarded, mechanical child. There was a great silence of anticipation and of dread. Then from the screen came the shrieks and whoops of joy. The first American voice could be heard shouting over the din: "On the nose! Hallelujah! We got air, boys...we're home! Jesus...we've done it...we got air!
His yells of excitement, and similar ones from his Russian counterpart, were drowned by the crescendo of cheering. And, during a lull in that cheering, the second American voice could be heard saying: "That's it! We got it...we got it! Boy, if they ever take the wraps off this thing, it's going to be the biggest date in history! May 22, 1962. We're on the planet Mars - and we have air!"
That was it. The end of the Ballantine tape. And millions of viewers, in many parts of the world, briefly wondered if they had misheard. Man on Mars in 1962? No, surely, that was not possible...
Simon Butler, his face somber, assured them that it was more than possible. Here, from a transcript of the program, are his actual words:
We believe that to be an authentic record of the first - and secret - landing on Mars by an unmanned space probe from Earth. We also believe the date given - May 22, 1962 - to be accurate.Clearly, the blanket of total security by which this information has been covered could have been maintained only through the active participation of governments at a very high level.
Equally clearly, there must have been some powerful reason why the true conditions on Mars< suitable as they appear to be for human habitation, have been kept secret. Indeed, the effort which has gone into persuading the world at large that the opposite is true argues that some operation of supreme importance has been going on beneath this security cover.
We believe that operation to be Dr. Carl Gerstein's Alternative 3.
Whether a human survival colony has by now been established on Mars, or whether preparations are still in hand for its transportation from the Moon to Mars, we do not know. But we put out this program tonight as a challenge to those who do know to tell us the truth.
He paused after spelling out that challenge, one hand resting on a model of the Earth and the other on a model of Mars, to underline its significance. The program was over and the gauntlet had been thrown down. The next move was up to the government. And the governments of other countries - particularly those of the super powers.
Butler knew, of course, about the behind-the-screen doubts and anxieties. He knew how Harman had tried to neuter the program and, indeed, how he had come close to succeeding. He was only too aware that the company had taken a calculated risk in persisting with this program, that what had been revealed would very likely be emphatically denied, that there could be ugly repercussions for Clements and Fergus Godwin. And, of course, for himself.
He was the anchorman, the man who - as far as the public was concerned - was right at the center of the entire investigation. He was well-known and well-respected and that, from the official viewpoint, made him doubly dangerous. It would be remarkable if attempts were not made to discredit him, to prove that, far from being a responsible commentator, he had been party to an ill-conceived hoax.
At no time, however, had he considered opting out. He has always believed in the truth. He had always presented it professionally. And this particular truth was far too important to be suppressed.
He concluded with these words:
We regret if the implications of what you have seen are less than optimistic for the future of life on this planet. It has been our task, however, merely to bring you the facts as we understand them - and await the response.
The response started almost before he finished speaking. Switchboards at newspaper offices and regional television stations were flooded with calls from frightened people, from people desperate for reassurance.
Those people got their reassurance. They got it because of the statement drafted by Harman. But that statement was a lie.
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